


The Therapy Roadtrip from Hell

by thedarkstrangeson



Series: Fall apart, you'll be alright [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blades, Blood, Enderchest the therapy cat, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries and imagery around them, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Nausea, Non-Graphic Violence, Nonverbal Communication, Passing Out, Ranboo and his bag of holding ice cream truck, Ranboo pulls a gogy and sleeps through doomsday, Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Technoblade's infinite knives, WARNINGS:, Weapons, blood for the blood god amirite, implied/referenced dissociation, no romantic relationships, this is all very sad but it is ultimately a therapy roadtrip I swear, this is just me having fun with sad characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkstrangeson/pseuds/thedarkstrangeson
Summary: L'manberg suffered quite a bit more, in this Doomsday. It was raining, and Ranboo slept through the main event. And yet he found someone in the wreckage, alive, miraculously. With no real alternative, he decided to do what he can to help. Which was not much, but at least he can get them both out of there.In which: everyone is either dead or really not doing too great. But where there's an ice cream van, there's a way!This is comes after the first fic in this series, but that one is not required reading to understand whats going on here. It just gives a little more backstory (and a lot more angst, if you're interested).
Relationships: Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Fall apart, you'll be alright [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161101
Comments: 22
Kudos: 166





	1. All the living are dead, and the dead are all living

Ranboo woke slowly, loath to open his eyes to the damp in the air. But there was something else, too, the hot tang of the nether’s red smoke thick on his tongue. It wasn’t alarming, yet; he thought that maybe one of his neighbors was just messing around with potions too carelessly. They tended to do things like that. No one in L’manberg was the cautious type. 

When he finally rolled over, though, it was to three things that made all of it much worse. First, he wasn’t even at home. He had apparently collapsed in the panic room the night before—it was a wonder that the discomfort of the obsidian floor hadn’t woken him sooner. Second, that it wasn’t even the floor that had woken him up. It was the sounds, distant booms of something ominously close to explosions. It had to be explosions, right? Nothing else sounded like that. Or maybe it was fireworks. Just fireworks, celebrating something he had forgotten about… in the rain. Because it was raining, wasn’t it? That drumming overhead, and the humidity that made his skin itch, it all meant rain. But the third thing, the thing that really cemented it as  _ wrong _ , was the two golden eyes across the room.

“Enderchest?”

She was not supposed to be here. Ranboo was certain that he had left her back at home, and told her to stay there. Her presence in the panic room meant that wherever she was before was unsafe. Cats only stepped to their owners when they had to, or were told to, and he definitely not told her to. 

_ Wait, where are the explosions coming from?  _ It had to be L’manberg. Which meant… the weird fog sense… it had to be withers.  _ No, no, nononono not them.  _ He couldn’t fight withers, he could hardly fight a sheep. The only reason he had lived this long was the spells forged into his armour, and his own bits of magic.  _ I have to wait them out. If I go in there now, I’ll just die, and then I won’t be of use to anyone. If I can stand even a chance of helping, I’ve got to stay here. The withers have to leave eventually, right? This is… this has to be the right choice. _

Ranboo realized, distantly, that he had been pacing. He forced himself to still, carefully taking one, two deep breaths, before sitting down and calling Enderchest over to him. He didn’t want to think about what must have happened to the others. Instead, he just held her close, burying his face in her warm coat. This contact always helped, a sharp contrast to the cold stone around him. Enderchest purred gently, the sound washing over him in waves, slowing his heartbeat. 

“What would I do without you?” Ranboo muttered, face still full of cat. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, but it was long enough for the explosions to die down and fade, long enough for the rain to slow to a drizzle, long enough for him to try to steel himself against whatever horrors he could find outside. He really, really didn’t want to go out there. But, too soon, Enderchest stood up to stretch and pawed at Ranboo to do the same.

“You’re right, I’ve got to go. There could be someone alive out there. Gods, I can’t do first aid. But you have to. I can do this. It’ll be okay. It has to be okay. Wait here, Enderchest. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

He pulled his gear on slowly, fingers stuttering over the buckles.  _ Deep breaths, Ranboo. You can do this.  _ He dove quickly out through the panic room’s entrance and swam ashore. There was an eerie silence, out here. No birds chirping, no animals to speak of at all. They had all done the right thing and run from this place. Ranboo walked on anyway. 

Images, possibilities, swept through his thoughts. Red-streaked stones. His house, blasted to pieces. The trident game for the festival, blown up. Fundy, dead. Tubbo, dead. All of them lying bloody and broken. Ranboo stumbled over the uneven ground, hopped a fence in the usual spot, and came to the last hill before L’manberg.

That strange fog hung stronger in the air, here. He could see that gray, stinging dust floating over towards him, and even all this rain hadn’t quite managed to get rid of it yet. He stood a moment longer, before finally climbing the last hill, taking the last step, and looking up.

“It’s... it's all gone.”

He wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than his imaginings. There were no bodies, none that he could see anyway, but there was also no  _ anything _ . He stood on the edge of a destruction he couldn’t even have attempted to imagine a moment before.  _ How many withers must this have taken? How many of them are still out there? _ Then a moment later:  _ is there anyone alive? _

His gaze swept over the entirety of the place, and Ranboo forced himself to take it in.  _ L’manhole _ . The thought came unbidden, but he couldn’t help laughing bitterly at the idea. He thinks that Tubbo might have laughed at that one.  _ Did any of them make it out? Please, Tubbo, you must have run when it happened.  _

Ranboo knew that he didn’t run. If Tubbo was anything, he was fiercely defensive of his home. He had sacrificed so much for this nation, he wouldn’t have hesitated to stay to fight, even against insurmountable odds.  _ This is what happens when you choose sides. You are willing to die for it, and for what? A chunk of land? Does any of this really mean any more than we say it does? You could have chosen to live, Tubbo, but I know you didn’t. I know you would have stayed to the bitter end. _

The great scar torn in the earth betrayed nothing but stillness.  _ Even coming here was useless. You knew it was going to be useless, it was always going to be useless, you will always be alone in the end, but I had to come, I had to make sure, I had to. _

He turned, then, to leave. Until something fluttered, just at the edge of his vision. He almost saw the wings before the person holding them.

“Techno?” he whispered, almost unsure. “Oh gods,  _ Phil _ .”

Technoblade was kneeling, still as stone, on the edge of the hole. The ground underneath him had been blasted down to the bare rock, but he was untouched by any explosions. And there, held carefully, reverently, in his arms, was Philza. 

His gray wings spread limply over the ground, but the feathers stirred slowly in the light breeze. This illusion looked just close enough to life that  _ maybe, maybe he is okay, maybe there I can do something to help.  _

Until then there wasn’t anything left. It felt, more than sounded, like a sigh. The world had just let out the breath it was holding. Phil was gone. It wasn’t like he disappeared, not quite, it was ashy white, like the last embers of a fire. Techno was left holding nothing. He clenched his fists, grasping at air. Then he just… shrunk. Whoever he was anymore, he had lost everything. And he was the only one around that Ranboo might actually be able to help.

Ranboo walked closer, stepping carefully over the chunks of missing rock. He tried desperately to push down the panic, the panic at this place and at the death he had just witnessed and at all the deaths that had surely come before.  _ I can help Techno. I have to do something, I have to be able to do something good. There’s no one else left, and he is here, and I can help this. _

Technoblade came into focus as he got closer. Thin cuts laced across his skin, some already starting to seal over. White ash coated his fingertips, and he stared at them, unseeing. At any moment Ranboo expected Techno to turn, to say something, to tell him— what? What could anyone say in this situation?

“Technoblade?” Ranboo tried his name, nearly whispered, but it worked. Well, “worked” was a strong word. Techno turned to look at him, or more like turned to look in his direction. His eyes stared blindly, empty of everything that once made that gaze powerful. He looked faded, hollow. Ranboo had to look away quickly.

“Can you stand up? We should get out of here.”

Silently, without protest, Techno stood. He seemed so small, standing there. He picked up his sword and sheathed it by rote, as though he did it because he was supposed to, and not out of the usual care he took for his weapons.  _ Is this okay? At least he is coming, at least he is alive. Can’t you see how dead he is? This is worse than actual death, he is a walking shell. But he is alive, I have to help him, I must help him. _

“Can you follow me, Techno?” He gave no response, but when Ranboo started to walk, he followed.  _ The panic room is the only good place to take him, right? My home, it’s gone with the rest of L’manberg. And Techno’s base is too far, so it has to be there. Okay. Just have to get him to the room. I can help him. I can do this. One good thing, that’s what’s important. _

“Careful where you step, things are a little rocky until we get further away from the hole, okay?” He tried to keep his voice quiet and even, to give Techno some bit of calm to latch on to. But Technoblade wasn’t latching on to much of anything. He was just There— a vague presence, devoid of any substance.  _ At least he is following. _

“We are almost there, it’s not too far. Once we get close, let’s stop and get you cleaned up, alright? I don’t want to leave any of these cuts to get worse.” Ranboo had been trying not to look at the cuts in question. He was never great around blood, but the way the injuries seemed to be knitting closed if he looked too long left him nauseous.  _ Isn’t Techno god-touched? Or something like it, anyway. Maybe that’s where the healing’s from. _

He kept up some vaguely encouraging chatter the rest of the way over, afraid that if he stopped talking Techno would stop following, or somehow get even worse. But they made it there alright, somehow, and Ranboo told him how to get into the panic room. Techno obeyed without thought, like he had the whole way. When Ranboo stepped out of the water, he was simply standing there, staring vacantly at one of the signs. “You are fine,” it read. For a moment, Ranboo thought something might have gotten through. But then Techno turned to look at him again, and there was only the same emptiness behind his eyes.

“Hey, let’s just sit down, okay?”

After he did, Ranboo lowered himself down next to him. He crossed his legs carefully, the way Tubbo had taught him, and expanded his enderchest to pull out some cloth and a flask of water. Without thinking, he reached for Techno’s hand to start cleaning him off. Techno tensed briefly under the touch, before whatever feeling he had left him again.

“Oh! Is um.. Is this okay?” Techno didn’t respond, but he made no move to pull away.  _ Well that was something at least? He’s still in there, somewhere. I might be able to get him back. Why do you even want him back? He’s never done anything to help you. But he’s a friend of Phil’s, and I owe it to him, at least. I need to help someone. If I can’t, what use am I anymore?  _ He wet the cloth, careful to keep it away from his own skin, before gingerly starting to clean. The white ash on Techno’s palms went first, then the blood under his nails. He began to work his way up his arms, unbuckling armor pieces as he went. He kept his eyes glued to the cloth as he went, trying to avoid watching whatever magic was working on the cuts after he wiped away the drying blood. When he got to removing the pauldrons from Techno’s shoulders, he heard a hesitation in the man’s breath. It was so slight he thought he might have imagined it, but he made his fingers lighter on the straps. Pulling the right one off, he discovered a gash where an arrow had found a chink in the plating.

“Oh, that’s not good. We’re gonna have to take off the rest of this, okay?” He looked up to check in, but Techno had his eyes fixed on the opposite corner of the room.  _ I can’t exactly stop now so… keep going. Keep trying to make sure he will be alright. _

Ranboo removed the rest of Techno’s armor, or at least the parts he could get off while they were both seated. He stacked them neatly off to the side, to be cleaned later. Then he just plugged away at his ministrations, gently rinsing dirt, blood, and grime, wrapping his shoulder in clean bandages, and talking slowly all the while. At some point, Enderchest found herself in Techno’s lap, purring softly. 

Eventually, satisfied with his work, Ranboo stood to set up a pair of cots for each of them. He wouldn’t sleep just yet, but Techno could surely use the rest.

“Can you get yourself out of the rest of that armor? I can help if you want, of course, I just don’t know what you are okay with…” Ranboo let himself peter out.  _ Oh gods, what are you even doing?  _ Luckily, Techno didn’t seem to be struggling. His right hand fumbled at the straps but got them undone. He stacked the remaining pieces with the rest of it and chose a cot, rolling to face the wall. Ranboo sighed.  _ It’s going to be okay. I don’t even know what happened today, but it was clearly bad, and I should have been there, but oh gods, at least I did something.  _

_ At least I did something. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the start of my newest thing! I'm hoping to post updates semi-regularly, but no promises because promises never end well when it comes to my writing. Chapter title is from "In Our Bedroom After the War" by Stars, because I'm a sucker for song lyrics.
> 
> Also, the idea of stepping is largely inspired by, although not entirely taken from the Long Earth series by Terry Pratchett. The rest of the non-canon worldbuilding is of my own invention.
> 
> I'm also here to say that I treasure comments, they give me all my motivation, and I might actually start interacting with comments now lol. Keysmashes power the brainrot, anything you say is great.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! There will be more to come.


	2. The shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some food mention in this just as a warning for y'all, and honestly that is sorta a theme throughout the fic (ice cream truck pog) so if that's something to avoid for ya, do it.

It was barely a half hour after dawn when something woke Ranboo up. A change, barely noticeable, but it had him sitting bolt upright near-instantly. His eyes whipped around the room, finding Enderchest, the signs, the entrance, and—oh. _Techno._ It was strange to sleep in the same room as someone else, after all this time. Strange, but… familiar. He shook his head to clear the feeling, and resolved that getting up now was as good a time as any. 

He stood to stretch, and cringed slightly at the loud cracks. _I better not wake Techno with my weird joints, of all things. He deserves to sleep as long as he can._ He glanced over at the other cot. Techno didn’t seem to have moved all night, or if he had, it was only to curl up smaller. _Just gotta get out of here quietly._

He put on his armor as silently as possible, before collapsing his ender chest and slipping out of the room. Ranboo paused a moment when he got to shore to look out over the ocean. The sun was rising to the east, but its colors bled into the water anyway. The pinks and golds of the dawn floated there, shifting before his eyes. _So, the world goes on._

_Even after all this, it’s beautiful._

On an impulse, he pulled out his memory book. Turning to the last page he found a note from last night.

“L’manberg is gone. I found Techno. I think he did it, but you have to choose people. And he’s the only person left. I think it was the right thing. He isn’t okay. I want him to be okay.”

Underneath that entry, he scribbled a quick promise.

“Watch more sunrises and sunsets.”

* * *

Some time later, he found himself sitting, still staring out at the ocean. Carefully, he folded away his memory book, and moved to get on with the morning. He wasn’t entirely sure that he had actually eaten the day before, what with waking up to the destruction of his home and everything, so that was the first order of business. _Make something fast for me, then start soup? I can’t imagine Techno will eat anything else right now. Actually, soup first. Then it’ll simmer and I’ll eat and it will be okay._

First, to find some vegetables. He headed off towards the farm near Purpled’s place, hoping that it was far enough from L’manberg to have been left standing. He carefully averted his eyes when passing near the hole. Now was not the time to mourn; he had work to do. 

Ranboo chose what plants to pick with the deft ease of practice. The ones that were not quite ready, he left untouched to their owner. Or to whatever ghost was left of their owner. There was a vain hope lurking in his thoughts that said maybe some of them had stepped out before the battle, maybe some of them had hid, maybe some of them hadn’t wanted to fight at all. But he knew it was futile. To his knowledge, no one else on the server could step from outside spawn, not without help. None of the people could, anyway. And the battle seemed to come on too fast, none of them would have thought to run. It was only sheer coincidence that he made it through. _Just dumb luck. Gods, just the worst kind of luck._

It wasn’t the time to dwell on all this. He had the base of a good stew in his arms, and someone waiting for it. It was time to keep moving forward, somehow. _Somehow._

* * *

Ranboo prepared the soup mindlessly, hands moving through the same familiar tasks without hesitation. Cooking always came easily to him; it was calming in its consistency. He pulled out some jerky from his satchel to tide him over until the soup was ready. While it all boiled, he retrieved Techno’s armor from the panic room and set about cleaning it.

The blood on it had been left to dry, so Ranboo started by scouring it off with sand. Dried blood he could handle; it was just a matter of taking care of things. But the other stuff… too close to alive for him. Even killing animals left a sour taste in his mouth, despite its necessity. After he was satisfied with his scouring, he wiped it all down once more, before lightly oiling every piece. _It's strange to be taking care of Techno’s stuff. He was always so… possessive of it, almost. I hope he’s alright with me touching it. But gods, he hasn’t objected to anything at all. Hopefully he’ll be a bit better when he wakes up. Hopefully._

Thinking about Techno brought him back to the soup, and he set about adding the last few ingredients. Dandelion roots, for heartiness, had gone in back at the start, but it still needed some other floral components. He added bluet petals, not for blindness but for mental clarity, and tulip petals, not for weakness but for a bit of a pick-me-up. _Silly humans always over-saturate their soups. Whoever taught them about the flowers neglected to mention any of the important parts. One of these days, somebody is going to use a whole bush of allium and just catch fire. Actually, knowing them, it's already happened to someone._

He waited a bit before tasting the soup, and found it just right. _This should help put him to rights._ He pulled the pot off the main fire a bit, trading it with a fresh one of just water. This way, it wouldn’t be quite as scalding when they got to eating, and he’d have some clean water to replace what he used yesterday, and to clean Techno’s cuts if he needed to. Then, he gathered up the armor and swam back into the panic room to store it.

 _Oh, he’s awake._ Techno was lying on his cot where he had left him, but his eyes were open. He stared listlessly at the ceiling, as though listening for something in a different world. It was only when Ranboo cleared his throat that he seemed to notice his presence. Techno turned towards Ranboo, gaze just as empty as the day before.

“Hey, Techno,” Ranboo looked down to study the armor pieces he carried, “I, uhh… cleaned your armor? It had some blood on it, y’know, and I thought it might be best if I took care of it…” Ranboo held it out, as though Techno might rise to take it. “Do you want me to put it somewhere in particular?”

Techno moved as though to pull a hand out from under his blankets, but stopped before he got anywhere.

“Alright, well I’ll just put them here for now. Do you want to get up? I made soup up top. Or I could bring it down here in my ender chest or something. Whatever you want! I just really think you should eat something. Especially after the day you had… yesterday… ah, why don’t I just go get you some soup, okay? I’ll be right back.” Ranboo hurried out of the room. _I can just feel him Looking at me. But also not? It’s like he isn’t even there, but he’s still watching too closely, and I just hate it. It’s okay, Ranboo. You can do this._

Once outside, he ladled out some bowls to put into the chest. Ranboo wasn’t entirely clear on how these things worked, but a general rule of thumb was that so long as you didn’t jostle the chest while opening or closing them, it would be alright. Either way, things stored in pocket dimensions are waterproof, so that’s the important part. He pulled the now-boiling pot of water off the fire to cool, and took a moment before heading back into the room. _Just give him the soup. Hope he eats, that’s enough. I hope he likes the soup. But eating is more important._

A few deep breaths later, he stood in front of Techno again.

“Hello again, I brought soup! Can you do me a favor and sit up?” Thankfully, that was all it took. Techno sat up, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, and started to eat, eyes fixed on his bowl. Ranboo rambled about ingredients for a bit before remembering that he should also probably be eating. He was only a little too thankful to not have any eyes on him. They ate in silence after that. When offered another bowl, Techno ate it too without complaint. Ranboo wasn’t sure what to think of the tension in the room. _I don’t remember him ever being this quiet. Has he actually said anything since I found him? I understand why not. Sometimes the words just… aren’t there. But I hope that maybe this helps, a bit. Maybe we should just try to get out of here. This world has nothing left for us._ He sighed, and tried to pull himself out of those thoughts.

“Are you healing alright?”

Techno finished his bowl, setting it aside to look at Ranboo. He couldn’t for the life of him read anything on his face.

“Do you mind if I check?”

Ranboo crossed to sit on the cot next to Techno, and waited a moment before moving to touch him. When he did, gently pulling away the blanket, he almost expected Techno to recoil, or tense up, or at least do _something_. But no. Instead, he just let him check over his arms to find everything already reduced to thin white scars. When Ranboo moved on to his shoulder, he found a layer or so of the bandages bled through, which was to be expected. He unwrapped them slowly, and pulled out his flask to sponge off any blood or grime. Ranboo hummed softly as he worked, something low which carried only the vaguest hint of familiarity. The wound was healing unusually fast— for what reason, Ranboo didn’t care to guess. After he wrapped it back up neatly, he thought again about the possibility of leaving.

“Do you care if we stay here, Techno? It just doesn’t seem like the best place, y’know. There are lots of other worlds out there, and I can take us out easily enough. I’ve done it before. Actually, I’m sure you have too. But this time we could do it together, maybe? If you’ll come with me. I’m sure you aren’t a terrible roommate.” He chuckled softly at his own joke, before giving up. “If you want to see what I mean, you can come with. I want to check on her, at least. Even if we don’t really leave today.”

Techno only pulled the blankets back around him.

“Hey, that’s okay too. I’ll be back in a few hours, okay? Then maybe tomorrow we can plan how we will get out of this place.” Ranboo nodded, mostly to himself, before turning to head back outside. Stepping was easiest, and usually safest, when done from the surface. Well, technically stepping was easiest from spawn, but he didn’t want to head all the way over there tonight. Besides, he’d been doing this practically from birth. The perks of ender genes, he supposed. There were a few natural steppers among the humans, of course, but almost everyone could be taught, or could at least step alongside someone who knew what they were doing. Ranboo started to feel around for the right direction, when he heard a mewing from down by his feet.

“You want to come with me, Enderchest? I don’t think it will be that exciting, you know.” She sat to look at him patiently. “Well alright. You can follow.” Cats, of course, could step by themselves. Dogs too, but they usually preferred to go directly alongside a human. Nobody was quite sure whether humans had domesticated these animals because they were steppers, or whether just spending enough time around people was enough. Sure was useful, though. It got Enderchest out of L’manberg safely.

It took a moment longer to sift through the options, but then he felt it. The direction of the world he was aiming for tasted vaguely of chocolate, which was why he had chosen it. Easy to remember, that way.

“This way, E.”

Then, he stepped. It was like portalling but easier, more natural. The veil between worlds was light for him. Some who stepped got nauseous, he knew, but for Ranboo it had always been something refreshing. Like slipping on a new coat, or walking through water without getting wet. A moment later, Enderchest stepped in beside him. This world was uninhabited, or at least it was the last time he was there, so he glanced around to get his bearings in these plains before setting off towards the nearby woods.

There she was, right where he had left her. The trees concealed her alright, both from possible passerby and the elements. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered. _It’s good to see you, Ender Swirl._

The ice cream van was coated in a thin layer of grime, but that wasn’t anything a wash couldn’t fix. She still sparkled with the enchantments he had placed on her, both for protection and for the effect. The paint job was done in vibrant turquoise and a soft cream, just right for appealing to the masses. He had been doing pretty well for himself with this gig, before he decided to settle in Dream’s world. _Honestly, not the smartest move I’ve ever made. Things really just went downhill from there._ But by the time he realized how bad things were, he had friends, connections. They were important. He wanted to choose people. _But now they’re all gone. And it’s Techno’s fault, and Phil’s fault, and all of their faults for not listening, for not seeing, for not running when they had the chance. And it's my fault for hiding. Cowards, all of us._

_No._

_It’s Dream’s fault. He caused all of this, really. Stirred up conflict in everything he touched, manipulated us all. And he might still be out there. So we have to go. Even if the one person who doesn’t deserve to live through this is_ **_him_** _._

 _I lived, though. I’m still here, and Techno is too. And we’ve got ourselves a way out._ The sun glinted off of the _Ender Swirl_ ’s windows, and Ranboo felt something a little like hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the end of chapter 2! Weekly updates are still tentatively the plan, but we shall see. I hope you enjoyed!  
> Many thanks to all of you who subbed or bookmarked this, thats hella cool. I also very much appreciate your comments, they're great. 
> 
> This chapter's title is from "Constellations" by The Oh Hellos. Excellent band all around, that one.
> 
> If you find yourself desiring some sweet sweet Techno angst in the mean time, the first work in this series, "I have made mistakes," is just that (Don't mind me, just plugging my own work lmao).
> 
> Anyway, hope to see you back next week!


	3. What is lost, now is always found

Ranboo stretched, tired from the lifting, before glancing around at Technoblade’s newly emptied house. He had spent the morning and into the afternoon driving the  _ Ender Swirl  _ across the world towards the base, and then loading it up with everything they cared to take. The night before he had actually slept well. It was a comfort to know that their escape was parked on the surface, shined up and ready to go. He was ready to get out of this place, as soon as he could. It didn’t feel safe to stay any longer. Ranboo stepped outside, back towards the van, to double check with Techno that they had gotten everything he wanted. Not that the man had been much help. He’d had to haul the two cows out of the basement himself, and turned the house inside out twice before he found Techno’s valuables barrel. It felt almost sacrilegious, what he was doing, but he knew that leaving these things behind would be worse. He knew that Techno would care again, eventually. He had to. So, leaving anything behind was not an option. All that was left was to find Carl.

Ranboo knew the horse had to be somewhere nearby, but Techno had hidden him pretty well. It made sense, after everything that had happened. Carl was leverage. He… remembered that. He was complicit in that much, at least, and so much more besides in what had happened to L’manberg. But it was just the two of them now.  _ I need to do what I can to make up for it. I need to be useful. I can help him, so I have to. _

He climbed into the van to talk to Techno. The inside was, after all this time, just as he had left it. Probably something to do with the magic he had used to build it, but he wasn’t going to question it. The  _ Ender Swirl _ was composed of two floors, but he could open a third if they really needed it. The main level held at one end the normal footprint of the van, with serving windows and the driver’s seat, while the back extended into a living area, and, behind a layer of spells for cleanliness and calm, the pens for whatever animals they might need to bring along. The top floor was Ranboo’s workshop and the bedrooms, as well as storage for whatever didn’t belong downstairs. It had taken him a long time and a lot of help to get the van the way he liked it, but now it was his masterpiece. The enchantments keeping it all together ran smoothly, only needing the occasional touch-ups.  _ Ender Swirl _ had been home to him before he came to Dream’s world, and in all honesty he was grateful to get back to her. Enderchest was curled up on the couch, purring contentedly.  _ I think she likes it here too. _ He gave her a quick pet before climbing upstairs to the bedrooms.

“Techno?” He was right where he had left him, lying in bed. He didn’t look like he had slept. But, he did look over as Ranboo called out to him. Ranboo wasn’t certain that Techno actually  _ saw _ him, but you take what you can get. He had been eating, at least, and his shoulder was all but entirely healed. He hadn’t even had to use any potions on it; Techno was just like that. Ranboo crossed the room to sit on the bed next to him.

“I really think we should leave here. I know that I tried to talk to you about it before, and that I just packed up most of your house, but I just need to say that we really are leaving. It’s not safe here, and I don’t think that staying here is going to help you. To help either of us. And I know that I can’t even imagine what happened out there, back in L’manberg. But it is going to be okay. So I guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to leave anything behind that you care about. I’m pretty sure I found all of your stuff, I got the valuables barrel—don’t worry, I didn’t look inside it other than to check that it was what I thought it was— and I’ve got Bob downstairs with the other cow. I don’t know if you had any other pets, but I do know you had Carl. So if you’re alright with it, we can go get him, or you can tell me where he is, or something. And even if you don’t really care right now, gods, I know it's so hard to care sometimes, it’s just important. I think we should make sure that he is safe, and with us. Is that okay?” Ranboo went on for far longer than he had meant to, mostly studying his shoes, but when he looked up, Techno was staring at him. His gaze still looked unreadable, but maybe it wasn’t quite so empty? At least he was looking. It didn’t feel great, of course— the pressure of eye contact had always made Ranboo want to vanish. 

Techno sat up, then, pushing the blanket down a bit so he could get his hands free, pulling his eyes away from Ranboo’s face, a relief. He stared at his fingers instead, like he wasn’t quite sure how they worked. Then he inhaled like he had needed a reminder to keep breathing, and signed, shakily, “North.”

“Oh! I uh… yeah I can go North,” Ranboo tried to be calm about it, but this felt  _ important _ . He had just been getting so worried. And yeah, maybe Techno wasn’t anywhere  _ close _ to okay yet, but that was why they were leaving. He was communicating now, it wasn’t just that painful vacancy anymore.

And then Techno left again. That was the only way to describe it; one moment he was caring about what would happen to his beloved pet and the next he had blinked and laid back down, fixing his eyes on the wall again.  _ It's okay, Techno. We are going to be okay. _ Ranboo sat there a moment longer, feeling like he should reach out, or say something, or just do  _ anything _ . Ultimately, he just stood to pull on his coat and head back out. North was at least a direction, but it would still take some work to find the actual horse.

* * *

After way too much walking in circles, Ranboo heard it. A soft nicker, seemingly coming from the side of a mountain to his left. He walked up to the wall and looked it up and down, feeling his hands along the smooth stone.  _ There _ . A light click, and a section of the wall retreated. Carl tossed his head at the intruder, but didn’t seem to object when Ranboo offered him an apple. There was a skylight above them, perfectly hidden by what was likely fake snow, and Techno had rigged up some sort of auto-feeder. He clearly hadn’t expected to be gone long though. Somehow, Carl had stayed put the extra few days, camly waiting for his owner’s return. Ranboo had known horses to step out of uncomfortable situations on a whim, and yet here he was. Loyalty.  _ Huh. _ He offered Carl another apple, and slipped a halter over his face for the walk back.

* * *

Ranboo walked Carl around to the back of the van, so that he could get him into his stall without crossing the entire living room. He rolled out the ramp, and checked over the stall to make sure everything was alright.  _ Food, water, fresh straw. I think he should be alright. Just do this like you normally would, even though it feels like Techno is downstairs. _ There were eyes on him, he could tell, but he didn’t want to mess it up by acknowledging it just yet. Instead, he got the ramp rolled up and everything sealed against the cold before so much as turning around. When he finally did, it was only for long enough to see that yes, Techno was sitting on the couch all wrapped up in a pink blanket he must have dug out of somewhere, because Ranboo didn’t even know he had one.  _ Or maybe things just turn pink in his presence _ . Ranboo smiled to himself at the idea, and picked up the grooming tools for Carl.

It was a meditative thing, brushing him out. The kind of task that he could let pass by without much thinking. He soon warmed up from Carl’s radiating body heat, and finished up with special attention to his mane and tail. He deserved a little bit of pretty, right?

When he eventually stepped out of the stall to wash himself up, he was a little surprised to find Enderchest curled up, asleep, on Techno’s lap. 

“She chose you, huh?” Ranboo said.

Techno blinked at him. Not questioning, exactly, but listening.

“Y’know she’s a very picky cat. She likes you.” Ranboo sat down on the couch next to Techno, and reached over to give Enderchest a good head scratch. “See? She’s happy.”

“...”

“How do you feel about just stepping out from here? I know that we are quite far from spawn, but I’d really just like to get out. And you’re doing better now, right?”  _ He should be. He’s been eating, even if it's entirely soup, and his shoulder is healing up. Besides that he's just been in bed a lot. Which, honestly is totally understandable.  _ Ranboo felt around a bit for a good world to step to. They didn’t have quite as many options out here, but there were a couple decent ones. “How do you feel about going here? The lavender one.” He gestured vaguely at a section of the coffee table, where the opening was strongest. It looked big enough to get the van through. “It feels like it has people, so we might be able to sell some ice cream tomorrow. It’s a little late to do today, but I do think moving is the right idea.”

“...”

Ranboo waited a moment longer, before heading to the front of the van to start it up. His fingers floated over the controls, getting them aimed at the right world. The familiar rumble of its engine sent him a burst of happiness. This was where he was meant to be.  _ Finally. Let’s get out of this cursed place. _

“Just try to aim for the lavender one, Techno. The  _ Swirl _ will do the rest of it. Okay, stepping out,  _ now. _ ”

The veil between worlds was more like a curtain this far out, heavy cloth to part as he went. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, it just required a little more pressure before they stepped into the new place. As they arrived, he felt his consciousness skim over the contents of the van.  _ Cows, Enderchest, Carl… Techno. Good.  _ He looked out over the dash and found them to be on the edge of a dark oak forest. Somewhere in the distance, smoke rose over a hill.  _ A village, I hope. We’ll head over there tomorrow I think. _

Then a loud thump, as something heavy hit the floor.

“Techno?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the bodies hit the floor.
> 
> Me? Posting on time? I mean it's sorta close... Anyway, expect chapter 4 a little later than usual next week, things are looking quite chaotic. Hope you enjoyed this one though! The boys finally get to get out of this place.
> 
> Chapter title is probably from a bears in trees song? Either that or the Oh Hellos. I will update this when I remember/find it.  
> (Edit: I found it! Both of those answers were wrong. It's from Quiet, Quiet, by Polite Fiction, a band which released a single banger of an EP and then disappeared off the face of the earth. Highly recommended tho)
> 
> Have I mentioned that its super cool how many of you have subscribed to this work? That's like... so cool.


	4. I like to say I’m tired but I really mean I’m weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the reason why nausea/vomiting is warned for in the tags, just a heads up.
> 
> Finally, a taste of Techno's POV and the appropriate level of angst :)
> 
> (All of the italics are thinking, btw, I think I established that's how I was doing thoughts before, but Techno can also sign although he isn't doing that or anything yet. So the one-sided conversations are entirely one-sided)

Technoblade was thrust back into consciousness with all the grace of a magma cube plummeting off a bridge. Which meant a) it hurt like death, and b) everything was on fire.

_ Gods, that step was terrible. _ It felt like the veil ripped him from his skin, and when he was plopped back into his body—or more accurately, his body got shoved back into him— it felt  _ wrong _ . There was this moment of lag that felt like minutes between when he arrived in the new world and when his body followed. The nausea hit him the moment his body did, and he thought that it was at that point that he lost consciousness.

So, naturally, he found himself with his face pressed into the carpet, his blanket tangled awkwardly around him, and an overwhelming urge to vomit. Oh, and Ranboo was standing over him too.  _ Great. _

_ I should have just stayed upstairs. Then he wouldn’t have to see me like this, see me so weak. _ It was like an accusation, despite having been nearly catatonic for… who knows how many days now. Even that was better than this. If he simply wasn’t thinking, there was no issue.  _ Problems _ , he thought,  _ come from feeling things. All I have to do is not, and then it will all be over. No more pain.  _

_ He ought to have left me right where he found me. Make it easier on all of us. _

“Technoblade? Are you okay? What happened?” Ranboo knelt in front of him, hands moving as though he wanted to check him over, or untangle the blanket. But… he didn’t. He was clearly trying so hard. Techno almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it.  _ Stop caring, Ranboo. It’s easier that way. You should hate me anyway. _

“Did you hit your head when you fell?”

_ Not a clue, Ranboo. See, I was unconscious for that part. _

“Why don’t you sit up? We’ll see what I can do for you to feel better. Was it the step? Oh gods, we probably went from too far out. I’m so sorry, Techno. I should’ve… I shouldn’t have tried to push it. I should’ve made sure you were actually okay before we went, instead of just assuming.”

_ I can just lie here, that’s fine. I really don’t have to move ever again, you know.  _ He definitely didn’t trust himself to try and stand. The world still spun, like it hadn’t quite clicked into place yet. 

“Is it okay if I try to help you up?” Ranboo seemed to force himself to look at Techno’s eyes, checking for any sort of.. What? Acknowledgement? As if Techno was going to give him that. He kept everything carefully blank, tried to shut himself in further. But gods, he was so nauseous.  _ This is pitiful, really. _ In the end, Techno looked away first.

Ranboo took that as something, he supposed—he wasn’t really paying attention anymore. But there were more words, and eventually hands, skimming lightly over his shoulders, carefully unraveling the blanket, helping to pull him somewhat upright.

_ Oh no, that was a mistake. _

Techno instantly lost whatever control he had, throwing up all over Ra—where Ranboo had been? He didn’t quite see it happen, but Ranboo wasn’t in the right spot anymore and that certainly did not help his disorientation.

“Oh. Gods, okay, let me grab a bucket, I’ll be right back, it’s going to be okay…” Ranboo scrambled off to  _ somewhere _ but he didn’t care enough to look. He was too focused on not vomiting again.  _ The floor’s looking pretty great right now, huh.  _

In a few moments, maybe minutes, Ranboo was back, setting a bucket down and then moving back over to Techno. Then the floor was moving away from him, and a second later he was deposited gently on the couch.

“Here, I’ve got you a new blanket, and there’s a bucket just in case. Can you try to drink this water?” There was a cool glass at his lips, and Techno, almost against his will, drank. Ranboo pulled the old blanket off of him—he knew it was in order to replace it, but that meant nothing. He was so exposed, he was weak, his hands were beginning to shake and he squeezed them tight into fists to hide it. Then Ranboo had the other blanket unfolded and laid around him. It was better, but oh how he hated that it was better.

“There, take it easy. Good, Techno.” Steady fingers pulled his hair back from his face, and a warm hand rubbed slow circles against his back. It was so familiar, he despised it. 

_ Why is he doing this? Doesn’t he know what I did? I— I killed  _ **_all_ ** _ of them, Ranboo. None of them ran, none of them stepped out; I don’t even know if they could step out. Wasn’t that your home? _

_ I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness. I know, gods how I know that I meant it. Every stroke of my sword, I meant it. But it wasn’t worth the price.  _

_ Phil... I’m so, so sorry. _

He felt his throat close up after that thought, but he viciously pushed any thought of crying away.  _ No, no, nononono not allowed. _ He closed his eyes, tried to pull himself together with a deep breath, but it caught on the way in and Ranboo was still there and he knew that he could feel how he was beginning to shake. Ranboo’s hand on his back stilled a moment, and somehow that made it all worse. 

_ Stop it. Just.. stop. Leave me alone. I have earned nothing but your hatred so please, just give it to me. _

“Hey, Techno. It's… going to be okay. All you have to do is breathe, okay?” Ranboo’s voice wasn’t quite steady, but he also wasn’t leaving like he was supposed to. 

_ Can’t you see I’m trying to breathe? _ He managed one smoothly enough, but the next turned into a hiccup and a muffled sob.  _ Pitiful, just pitiful. _ He tugged the blanket closer around him, as though it offered any sort of protection. He tried to turn away from Ranboo too, but in the shuffle of tangled limbs and nausea he fell back onto him. At this point, Techno finally gave up. It just wasn’t—none of it was working. He couldn’t see anymore, eyes shut tight against the tears that tried to betray him.  _ Here is where I die, right? Here is where he sees that I am useless, and that he can get nothing more from me because I have nothing left. Draw your weapon of choice. I won’t try to stop you. I deserve it, and you want it.  _ Another sob escaped him there, and he curled further into himself.

_ You have to want it. _

Ranboo, for his part, at least had the grace to be surprised to find Techno in his lap without any willingness to make a further escape attempt. He recovered quickly though, pulling Techno gently towards a more comfortable position, and then just… holding him. 

_ No. Don’t… _

It was almost enough. 

_ You don’t have to do this. _

“I-I’m here, I’m going to stay here for you.”

_ You shouldn’t. _

“I’m sorry,” Ranboo kept his voice lowered. He ran his fingers through Techno’s hair, working through the tangles. “I’m sorry that I didn’t realize stepping like that would be so rough for you. I’ll be more careful.”

_ I’m not supposed to be fragile. He isn’t supposed to help. He shouldn’t want to touch me. _

“It’s okay that you aren’t all the way better yet. You can have all the time you need.”

The bittersweet nothings of false promises dissolved into background. Techno searched his mind for reason, for any sort of sense to all this, but the nausea and shivering left only room for shattered thoughts, and this.

* * *

It was some time after Ranboo found him, maybe that evening or the next morning, or even the evening after that. It was all so hazy, really. He mostly remembers that heavy fog over everything, and the aching soreness that seeped into his bones after he had to do a lot of healing. Nothing else got through easily. There were words spoken at him, but there were always words. Maybe they were the Voices, or people— then it did not matter, he didn’t absorb any of it. 

Still, when he was torn into unwilling consciousness, all he ever found there was hurt. Maybe it was hunger, or thirst. Maybe it was that loss, deep inside that crackled with guilt and left him choking on phantom feathers. But sometimes it was probing hands that burned like dry ice on his arms, that he felt certain held only the worst intentions and yet, inexplicably, never struck.

He didn’t know, then, that he had even been found. Until he woke up, and he became aware of the crushing  _ weakness _ of it all.

Techno was many things, but he was never helpless. Or he hadn’t been, he had made sure that he wasn’t, for many, many years. But here he had let his armor be taken off— _ I should have woken up, should have stopped it _ —, he had let it be taken out of the room— _ my fault, my failure _ —, and he had let his weapons head off to who knows where— _ They’ll want to kill me with my own sword, won’t they? Poetic. _ All this, and the throbbing of his hurts pushing down on top of it… he just gave up. Any other time, he would have pushed through. But what was there to push through for?  _ Phil’s dead, Tommy too, and anyone else who even maybe would have cared was just murdered at my own hand. If I’ve walked into my own death here, I sure as hell deserve it. Might as well just stop. _

_ Just let me stop. _

He had never been able to die, before. Maybe this time would be different.  _ Please, let me stop. _ He lay there, and fixed his eyes on the ceiling, and counted the cracks in the obsidian while he waited.

But that isn’t how it went. No karmic force came in to slit his hapless throat, as much as he would have welcomed it. Instead it was Ranboo who came, a pacifist of all things, carrying the instruments with which Techno had destroyed all that he had loved. Carrying them, and delivering them back to him. 

Ranboo offered connection, but he pulled back. Even as the words locked up in his throat, his fingers itched to sign something, anything, just to prove that he was still there. Communicating, picking up those severed threads that had choked him was the worst possible idea. All it would do is give him something else to destroy.

Somehow, Ranboo didn’t seem to notice that movement aborted; he pushed on with talk of  _ soup _ , of all things. When he left, it was in that brief absence that Techno remembered how to breathe again. Then, he carefully locked any feelings away, and shut down.

When he was given food, he ate. When asked questions, he did not even hear the words, let alone answer.

And yet, when the hands came back, they didn’t freeze. The burning was a warm one. 

But it still hurt. Opening himself to any connection was taking a knife to long-sealed scars. He didn’t need it. Or, that was what he had told himself for so long. Other people hurt him, and they hurt each other, and he could never really trust them not to turn against him once they saw him for what he was. 

But, he  _ wanted _ people. He longed for the closeness of falling sleep safely in another’s presence, for the comfort of knowing a knife wasn’t waiting in the dark. He wanted so badly that he walled the want off to where it couldn’t pull him into danger. The people that he loved, that he wanted, were golden pools of warmth to gather up, to guard close. He knew he did not need them, knew that even without them he could not die, but the want lingered on until his fingers shook as he signed “North.” 

So that was why he was downstairs. It was a test, of sorts—he needed to see how badly reaching out to Ranboo would hurt him. He didn’t think of it in so many words, not exactly, but it was the sort of action that came unconsciously after years of betrayals. He needed to know what sort of hurt to expect. 

Ranboo didn’t break things instantly. For one, he actually found and brought Carl back like he said he would. But after that, Techno just had to watch. He would have retreated back inward in a heartbeat, if it wasn’t for Carl. Simply put, he cared too much. Carl could have left him many times over, but he was still there. So, when he could, he would make sure that he was being treated alright. Which Ranboo seemed to be doing.

Technoblade still didn’t understand this, not a bit of it. Why did Ranboo care? What did he have to gain? 

Those were always the questions, weren’t they?

He figured, after a moment, that they weren’t worth contemplating. What would be, would be. He had no reason to care what fate would bring him any longer—his own seemed to have discarded him. The Voices were gone, mostly. The one that was left… he didn’t want to think about that one. It wasn’t there in that moment, at least, which was what mattered.

There were moments, after that thought, for which Techno knew he was conscious. That cat had sat with him for a bit. Ranboo had said something to him, and he had tried to listen. But those memories were broken and scattered by the step, by blacking out, by waking up to the terrible un-right-ness and every other sensation that overwhelmed him. But at least there was someone there.

_ At least I am not alone. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Laugh/Cry by Bears in Trees.
> 
> Also, I'm back! Hopefully life does not get quite as in the way again any time soon, so I will be trying to continue the weekly updates. Much love to all of you reading this, it makes me very happy.


End file.
